


Resolution

by Nalyra



Series: A blackish red hue [11]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Clarice Starling - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder Husbands, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7931200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgan Verger has been kidnapped and Margot has called on their promise.</p><p>Some smut, lots and lots of emotional baggage that needs working through.<br/>And not all is as it seems...</p><p> </p><p>>> If you haven't, start with Baptism (pt 1 of this series), I do think it's necessary for character development.<br/>Also I'm not explicitly tagging Alana and Margot here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This.... was really planned/imagined quite differently.
> 
> But, while I was writing it, I started thinking about how the show made this a 'thing' in every season, in fact it is one of the main themes in a way... and therefore this canon obsession of Hannibals made perfect sense to me, especially with Wills father thrown into the mix and it somehow progressed naturally.
> 
> I am really excited to see your reactions... please give them to me via comments :P

Wills heart skips a beat, and he closes his eyes briefly, waiting for her to acknowledge him. There is a minute pause and then her voice breaks free, frantic yet collected, suffused with the fatalistic undertone Margot cultivated so perfectly in her abusive relationship with Mason. 

„We need your help. Someone has kidnapped Morgan.“

Another pause and Will turns, phone in hand, regarding the house behind him thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on the garage for a moment. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head once and then opens the little notebook they brought along, his voice returning to the business at hand.

„Where are you at, Margot? We’ll need all the information you have.“

_______________

 

When Will returns to the house after a few minutes, his father is rummaging around the various drawers, mumbling to himself. Will takes a look at Ardelia, all trussed up, tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter, once, before he steps over and enters the bedroom. He stops in the door, breathing deeply, before stepping forward and into Hannibals arms, waiting for him there, obviously trying to keep out of his fathers way.

Hannibal nuzzles at his temple, and Will draws in his smell, his favorite drug, needed now, beyond any compare. He raises his head again after a moment and Hannibal kisses him softly, lips just catching, tender pressure, before looking at Will thoughtfully, his voice soft and yet decided.

„Something is troubling you. What has transpired, Will?“

Will snorts softly, shaking his head.

„Something… overly accidental if you ask me. Someone seems to have kidnapped Morgan.“

Hannibal tilts his head, regarding him for a long moment, before there’s a minute twitch to the corner of his mouth.

„How very convenient that we are around the proverbial corner, indeed.“

Will clicks his tongue, seeing Hannibal watch the motion, hunger barely veiled.

„We could ask Chiyo, couldn’t we?“

Hannibal hums and then starts to press small nips and kisses on Wills face. He speaks after a moment, in between, almost inaudible.

„We could. However, beloved, it would only delay the inevitable. And, the fact that your father is with us, may be to our advantage. Let us play the game now.“

Will nods after a moment, sighing. He smiles at Hannibal, drawing slightly back, indicating his body with a little wave of his hand, swallowing, hard. 

„What about your wounds. I know you’re littered with burns.“

Hannibal shrugs one shoulder, nonchalantly. 

„Inconsequential. She only inflicted superficial wounds. There was some lotion I was able to apply. I… did not provide her with the resolution she desperately wanted. However…“

Hannibal draws back and places both hands on the side of Wills head, holding him still, gaze intense, whispering.

„You gave her her resolution, Will. You were magnificent. How does that make you feel?“

Will licks his lips, biting them softly, gaze swallowed by Hannibals.

„Hungry.“


	2. Chapter 2

He refuses Hannibals offer for a more… vigorous use of the bed in favor of helping his father collect his things. It’s not much, and most is done in an eerie quiet, his father silently following his prompting, probably chewing on what he is about to do. Running away from the authorities with outlawed cannibalistic killers, after being attacked by two FBI agents, who imprisoned him for almost three weeks. Well, it’s a harsh pill to swallow.

They pack any food that won’t spoil easily, as well as any beverages. When they have stocked the caravan they return to the house, and Will frees Ardelia to let her use the bathroom, making sure she returns to her sticky prison afterwards. He lingers in the kitchen, eyes drawn to the stainless steel knifes on the counter. He draws one out, his reflection a serene counter image, before taking a supper box and turning to the back door. His father stops him with a hand to his arm, stepping close, breath heavy.

„Will.“

Will turns slightly, opening his body language to his dad though refusing to turn away from the door completely.

„Yes, Dad.“

Steven Graham sighs, fidgeting. His fingers flex on Wills arm, squeezing for an instant. His voice is rough.

„I… am afraid to ask where you’re going with this, son. Don’t… think I’m ungrateful, just…“

Will sighs, rolling his shoulders. He looks at his father for an instant, intense, looking passed the tired drop of his shoulders. His father is afraid of the truth, of that which he has become. Because there is always a difference between knowing and experiencing. He feels Hannibal step out from the bedroom, instinctually knowing that something is up. He looks at him for an instant, a smile tugging at his lips before turning more directly towards his dad, raising his chin. He holds a hand up to stop Hannibal from following.

„Come. Let me show you… See me.“

He turns, not waiting for a decision, his fathers hand dropping off his arm. His dad falls into step after a few moments, silently following him out to the garage. Will hesitates for a moment, waiting for his dad to catch up before he pulls the door open, sunlight streaming in. The air is still cold and Will is grateful that they’re so far up north, the temperature ensuring the … meat is still fresh. He enters quietly, stepping aside to make room for his father to pass.

Will watches quietly, as his father steps forward, silently examining her corpse from afar, first, then stepping closer quietly, dropping to his knees with a deep sigh. Will hovers in the doorway, giving him space to come to terms with this.   
His fathers voice is gravelly when he speaks.

„Did she suffer?“

Will sighs through his nose, making his voice as calm as humanly possible.

„No. She… accepted, in the end.“

His father laughs harshly.

„Oh yeah? You know that?“

Will raises his chin, his voice taking on a hard tone.

„Yes, dad. I know that.“

Silence after that, for a while. Finally his father nods, once, his trembling fingers coming up to trace her features with a forefinger. 

„She was so full of confusion, full of hate. He really did a number on her.“

His words echo in Wills brain with another cadence, another voice. He swallows, forcing the words.

„He often does. It is my fault he did it to her… So, -I- had to release her.“

His father sighs, tracing her lashes, softly, carefully.

„I won’t insult you by asking if it is worth it, Will. It has obviously been worth it for you…“

Will sighs, this time open mouthed, rolling his shoulders again. 

„Did they tell you I was alive?“

He can see his dad’s hands falter, before picking up their movement again, tracing along the cut up edges of her open throat now. When he answers it is gruff, yet dreamlike in quality.

„No. They said he killed you. I didn’t believe them. I knew he would rather kill himself, than kill you.“

He swallows and Will mimics the action, waiting. 

„When he escaped I knew you would as well. I did not know when, or how, I did not know who to talk to. Eventually, she called me.“

Will starts, astonished, voice raw, catching.

„She?“

His father snorts, his hands in his lap now, still watching Clarices tranquil face.

„Molly, of course. She said she found some wine and your favorite cup. I knew what she meant. I said thank you.“

Will closes his eyes, forcing down the bile that threatens to rise, treacherously.

„I…“

His father cuts him off, his voice hard.

„Don’t, Will. I know you chose him. You never thought about me twice, did you?“

Will breathes deeply, once, closing his eyes and reopening, steeled with resolve. His voice is clear, here, now, resolute.

„Oh, I did. However, there is only the way forward, dad, and we were on the run. And I -did- choose -him-.“

He can see his father nod and then steps forward, kneeling down on the other side of her body. Rigor mortis has set in and it is actually high time to take their pound of flesh. Will deliberates for a moment before he decides on an easy part, more for his dads sake than his own. He turns her slightly, turning her towards his dad and pushes up the jacket and shirt she wears, exposing her side. He cuts the filet out carefully, the piece of meat reminiscent of the one he called ‚long pig‘ so long ago. His father watches, silent, breathing harshly as Will closes the box, carefully laying her out on her back again. His stomach rumbles and he stands up, offering a hand to his dad.

„Come, dad. I’m hungry.“

His father looks at his hand for a long time, before taking it and getting up, joints creaking. He keeps hold of Wills hand and locks gaze with him, silently looking, very slowly accepting. There is a pang in Wills chest at his fathers next words, pride mixing with helpless love, so long suppressed.

„I’ll need a beer with that, son. Or two.“

Will smiles, eyes tearing up, feeling the weight he didn’t know he was carrying lift.

 

____________________

 

They don’t return to the house, opting to enter the caravan instead. His father goes straight to the little fridge, taking a beer out, chugging half of it in one swallow. Hannibal joins them after a moment, taking the situation in, tilting his head in slight confusion. Will smirks at him, softly, before prompting.

„Please make us something… hearty with this? For three.“

He reaches up and squeezes Hannibals shoulder, once, before climbing into the drivers seat and starting the engine. His father settles onto the small sofa behind him, sideways, wearily watching Hannibal while nursing his beer. Will pulls onto the interstate, choosing speed over security. He hears Hannibal rummage around in their few provisions, inspecting the odds and ends and cans his father had in his kitchen. There is an almost inaudible huff and Will grins for a moment, before Hannibals voice breaks the silence, the undertone dry.

„I believe we will have scrambled eggs with stripes of sizzled filet and canned red pepper. I will marinate the meat for a while, if that is alright with you.“

His father chimes in, tone equally dry.

„Sorry to disappoint you. Guess we can’t stop at the farmers market… you could add some beer if you want?“

Will watches them through the back mirror, eyes flicking up and back down to the street time and again rapidly. Hannibal turns, smirking, quietly bending down to retrieve another bottle of beer for his father. Steven takes it, sighing deeply, nodding his thanks. Hannibal looks at him for a moment, before quietly starting the discussion, bound to happen anyway.

„I believe it means very much to Will, that you are willing to partake, Steven.“

Will can see his father swallow, take another swig. His voice is flat, yet tinged with tired amusement.

„Well, I’ll rather eat than be eaten that’s for sure… and I have heard many tales about the splendid dinners at that house of horrors of yours. Tattle crime was rather elaborate, at times. Must’ve been something.“

He chuckles, before continuing, more quietly, picking at the label on the bottle.

„She warned me, you know. She said she would kill you, eventually, and that she would pay you back. She… spoke about feeding your heart to your dog.“

There is a minute pause, before he speaks again, sighing deeply.

„She wanted to feed you Will, bit by bit. She… would talk about it for hours. Ardelia would listen, shaking her head. Ardelia knew Clarice was lost.“

Hannibal looks at him for a long moment, minutely tilting his head.   
When he speaks, Will can hear the underlying cold fury, though it is very tightly controlled, voice seemingly soft and amused.

„Ah, how very fortunate that she wasn’t able to, then. I will relish tasting her.“

There is a very tight silence, after and Will shakes his head, deciding to break it, admittedly crudely, but effectively.

„Oh, for heavens sake, Hannibal, lighten up. You can eat -me- later.“

Will grins when he hears his father choke on his beer, coughing heavily, seeing Hannibal raise his eyebrows at him in the mirror. He almost misses the deadpan remark.

„I am looking forward to it. However, before filling you up in a different way, I insist on filling up your stomach first.“

His father groans, deeply, and throws himself backwards on the couch, muttering to himself and Will snorts, feeling suspiciously happy.


	3. Chapter 3

Breakfast, or, better lunch is served on the little table with as much luster as Hannibal can possible manage, napkins as table cloth, some spices dribbled on it in an artistic try at decoration. Probably to distract from the ingredients, Will muses quietly, taking in the view of his father, just slightly on the plastered side by now, sitting there, head propped up on an arm, with Hannibal serving their little meal from the pan, a dish towel around his middle. Almost domestic. 

Will checks the parking lot again before he joins them, dropping into the little bench with a sigh. He checks his watch, 3 1/2h until they promised to inform the police about Ardelia.   
Hannibal joins them after a moment, primly seating himself on the little fixed stool in front of the table and looks from one Graham to the other. Will cannot help but grin. He picks up his fork and digs right in, not even pretending to care. He moans when the flavor explodes on his tongue, deeply grateful for Hannibals ability to cook something good out of almost any mundane ingredient. His father watches him, suspicious, before taking his fork as well, sighing deeply and stabs at the smallest morsel of meat he can possibly find. His hand is shaking when he brings it to his mouth, eyes flitting between the Graham-Lecters, with Will smirking and Hannibal watching like a shark, transfixed by the situation it seems. Serious teasing in his foreseeable future, Will muses giddily. 

There is an almost inaudible groan from Hannibal when Steven Graham actually starts to chew on the meat, an unbelieving and utterly relieved expression flitting across his face, and Will nods to himself, still grinning. Yeah, you gotta know to recognize it. His father takes another fork of food, this time filled egg and all, and proceeds to eat slowly, albeit steadily. They eat in silence, Hannibal finally joining in as well, obviously somewhat emotionally shaken by the whole thing and Will reminds himself to breach the subject of this previously unencountered behaviorism later. His fathers gruff words shatter the little bubble of surreality that has descended.

„Well, now I know why no-one ever suspected you. First, no-one would know if not told, and second, I bet no-one ever wanted to miss out and even think about it.“

Will chuckles, before stealing a swig of the beer, earning him a scowl.

„Oh, dad, and the cannibal puns… I swear, he kept telling them the whole time and of course nobody would catch on. When I was in prison, finally seeing through the fog, I kept shaking my head in utter consternation with every pun I remembered.“

Hannibal chimes in, raising his glass of water to them.

„Good times, indeed.“

Steven Graham interrupts, firm and buffed by alcohol but not unkind.

„Good times getting my boy in prison. You should probably redefine your definition, Hannibal.“

Hannibal fidgets for a moment, outwardly only betrayed by a twitch of his mouth. Will wisely decides to stay out of this, though he watches in rapt fascination, emotions surprisingly clear and settled by now, a pure shadow compared to the other time he was locked away.

„At the time, I saw no alternative. And I have to say, Will is exceptionally apt at freeing himself from prison, as the past has shown.“

He has to say it, staying out of it already scattering in the wind, though his tone is very soft and amused. Now, at least.

„And you wanted to see what would happen, never forget that.“

Hannibal eyes lock onto him, amused and yet intense.

„Always, my beautiful boy.“

His father groans, shaking his head though more at himself.

„Ah Christ. I will really have to get used to you waxing poetic. It just…“

Will tilts his head and regards his father, waiting. He reaches for Hannibals hand, frozen on the tablecloth, the very display of fear of rejection, squeezing slightly, Hannibals eyes regarding Steven without blinking. 

„What, dad.“

Steven shrugs, fiddling with the bottle.

„It’s just when he calls you ‚boy‘, he sounds like your Sugar Daddy, y’know? And since he’s almost as old as me…“

There is an alarming lack of reaction from Hannibal and Will licks his lips, trying to contain his mirth while feverishly trying to find a handle on this.  
His free hand rubs along his face and he shakes his head at himself, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a moment. Hannibal draws a deep breath, and Will squeezes his hand again, once, preparing to deflect but Hannibal beats him to it, tone considerate but deceptively flat.

„Since most of our possessions are paid by my fortunes and since I am indeed sufficiently older, I believe your description could be correct. I would be his ‚Sugar Daddy‘ as you have put it so…. aptly, were it not for the deepest connection that sentient beings can share, inseparable. We are conjoined and I believe our stars will always be the same. And since we are in fact legally married, my fortunes are his fortunes, which, I believe, will revoke the notion.“

His father looks at Hannibal for a moment, then he snorts and lightly toasts Will.

„Well, it’s nice being rebuked so eloquently.“

Will can only nod, silent, his eyes riveted to Hannibals, something in his soul hurting so good he can’t breathe.


	4. Chapter 4

Will does the dishes after their little meal, his father taking a nap on the bed in the back, taking it very well, all things considered. Hannibal comes up to him, embracing him, hands splaying over the smile on his stomach. Will smiles softly, continuing, happy with whatever Hannibal is trying to start. Or not. He hums when Hannibal kisses his neck, the tip of his tongue tracing the silvery teethmarks on Wills neck. Will tilts his neck to give him better access, goosebumps erupting on his skin. Hannibal voice is very quiet.

„Have I thanked you for freeing me yet, beloved?“

Will grins, voice equally quiet.

„Not yet… you can later, ok? When we have like a separate room.“

Hannibal chuckles, nipping at the soft skin.

„No Sugar Daddy kink, no daddy kink, how very boring indeed.“

Will has to bite his tongue to not laugh out loud, choosing instead to elbow Hannibal in the side in retaliation. 

„On the subject of boring, we didn’t even make a decent display of her… we should have honored her more.“

Hannibal licks along his carotid, sighing softly against him. 

„I disagree. We left the perfect display. A fallen angel, smiling serenely in the havoc she wrought, amidst the evidence of the destruction she tried to bring to an innocent.“

He pauses and Will finishes the last plate, watching the water disappear down the drain.

„Although with Jack gone and Arlana otherwise… occupied it might not be to their understanding. Still, it is a fitting display and ultimately their loss if they fail to understand.“ 

Will dries his hands and turns slowly, his arms coming up, holding fast. Hannibal hands drop to his back and then lower, pulling him in and they slot together, pressed against the sink, breathing each other in. The electricity between them turns inescapable once more and Will leans in with a small groan, the kiss deep instantly, devouring, triggering other responses in their bodies as well. Hannibal draws back with a snarl and Will puts a finger to his jaw, pushing his mouth open with it, and licks around his teeth, making them both hiss. Wills whisper is harsh, breath coming in harsh pants.

„Fuck.“

Hannibal grins wide, lewdly, salaciously, his teeth flashing, their promise shuddering through Will. He grabs Wills belt by the buckle and drags him with him, out the door, as quietly as they can possibly manage, towards some trees and the manhandling isn’t exactly helping with Wills arousal. Hannibal crowds him against a tree, just behind the tree line and Will chortles with the situation, stealing a look back at the caravan, just visible between the foliage, before Hannibal pulls his head back with a fist in his hair. Will snarls at him, pulling him down by his collar, biting at his lips. Hannibal pulls his head up, hips grinding into Wills, the need to stay quiet ramping up both of their arousals. Hannibal bites at Wills adams apple and Will forces the words out, already light headed, eyes falling shut, body pressed into the bark behind him almost painfully, their bodies connecting in all the right places.

„No lube, Hannibal. And we…“

Hannibal drags his teeth to Wills left ear, dipping his tongue inside, banishing all thought for a moment. He continues Wills sentence after a moment, moaning low key into Wills neck.

„Cannot do it dry, I am aware. We need our bodily capacities intact.“

He draws back to lick at Wills mouth, words whispered in between licks.

„And as much as I would wish to see you squirm in front of your Dad with the evidence of my desire for you, I think you would not appreciate it very much.“

Will chuckles darkly, a low guttural sound that reverberates through his chest, traveling through them both.

„Oh, I would make you pay for making me go through that, that’s true.“

Hannibal groans against him and jerks his hips into him, once, hard, his voice deep and rough. 

„A rather tempting prospect.“

Will grins and then opens his legs wider, Hannibal instantly slotting between them and Will draws them up, locks them behind his back. It changes the pressure so every grind goes up against Wills perineum and Will shakes his head minutely, rational thought rapidly disappearing, the hot line of Hannibals cock pressing and retreating in a tantalizing flow, his hands burning pressure at Wills hips.

Hannibal draws back and watches him for a moment, eyes black, the iris a dark red line, just visible. Will traces a finger along Hannibals lips, before he touches his tongue to his left incisor, letting the need free, desperate want making his voice rough.

„There was a chance she would kill you… and we’re off towards another trap. We should not waste our time…“

Hannibal lowers his head a fraction, eyes half lidded, flashing, his smile turning dangerous. The world tilts and then they crash to the ground, their mouths finding each other again, tongues battling. Hannibal hand sneaks down between them, pulling at Wills belt and Will follows suit, helping, both pushing their pants and underwear down and Will moans deeply when their skin finally touches, Hannibal biting at the corner of his mouth. Will groans and then starts to giggle softly, the thought ridiculous but he forces it out, in between moans.

„Do we even have something to clean up with us?“

Hannibal falters for a moment, before he joins Will, chuckling before his mouth returns to Wills, words rasping over their lips.

„There will be nothing to clean up, beloved.“

He kisses Will once, harshly, a bruising kiss that has Will panting, before he draws back, smirking, turning around, kneeling over Will and Will groans with wild abandon, hands coming up to Hannibals hips, one hand sliding on to grasp the base of Hannibals cock, positioning it, precome dripping onto his lips and he opens his mouth, touching his tongue to the slit.  
Will jerks when he feels the answering lick, the huffed laugh more felt than heard making him sigh in happy abandon before he starts licking and mouthing in earnest, the smell making him light headed with want. His plea is murmured, spoken without a conscious thought.

„Please…“

He can feel Hannibals groan run through his body, and he squeezes his hand on Hannibals hip tightly in response, before he opens his mouth and throat to the slow pushes that are mirrored on his own cock, the feeling of being swallowed down after a few minutes while deep throating Hannibal so utterly erotic he cannot keep his arousal at bay, his hips starting up their own movement. Hannibal groans around him, his left hand softly squeezing Wills balls and Will drags his teeth along the crown when Hannibal pulls up once more, before it is pushed down, down again, the angle much easier this way and Wills swallows around it, feeling Hannibal mimic it and the smell envelops him and he pushes his hips up, once, hard, making Hannibal take him all the way down and he comes, feeling Hannibals answering pulse down his throat, a broken moan reverberating through his groin, his senses full of salty ecstasy.

Hannibal drops to the side onto the floor, and Will pants, heavily gulping for air, feeling used and debauched and wanted and oh so darkly loved. He grins, eyes closed and feels Hannibals finger entwine with his, and he squeezes them, happily floating in the afterglow.

It shatters spectacularly when the caravan door slams and they both scramble to their knees, hastily doing up their pants and Will starts to snort, breaking into a full belly laugh after a moment, uncaring if his father might hear them now. Hannibal levels him with a look that is fond and of fathomless intensity, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. 

Wills father stops at the entrance to the foliage and calls over to them, tone drily amused.

„Well, when the two of you are done making out, how about we get going some more?“

Will hides his face behind his hands for a moment, laugh turning to low giggling for a few moments before he forces himself to sober up a bit, yelling back, still shaking a bit with mirth.

„Why thanks for the reminder dad, just finished, thank you very much.“

Hannibal turns to him, a stumped look crossing his face before he raises his left eyebrow, chiming in, voice deadly serious.

„I am glad that you are so unimpressed, Steven, next time we will just use the couch then.“

Wills father cackles, and Will just shakes his head, anticipating the comeback.

„You wish, son. Over my dead body. And we already established that you are not allowed to make that happen, so - tough.“

Will snorts, rolling his shoulders, getting up. He starts to walk towards the parking lot, stopping when he senses Hannibal falling behind. He turns, looking at him, trailing his gaze over his still form, still kneeling on the earth, fingers fumbling with his belt still, face drawn and hollow, eyes wet. Will frowns, and looks back towards his dad for a moment, rewinding their words. His lips form a silent ‚oh‘ and he walks over to him and sinks back onto his knees next to him, quietly embracing him. He nuzzles under Hannibals jaw, fingers gliding through he hair at his nape, feeling him swallow, Hannibals hands twitching in his lap. He waits for a beat, pressing small kisses to his throat between words, keeping his tone light. 

„See? He likes you…“

Hannibal tilts his head, frowning a bit.

„An irrational emotion, especially considering all that he knows about me. About what I have done, specifically to you.“

Will smirks and bites at his jugular, once, softly, his lips pulling at the skin there for a moment.

„Indeed. But, as you know, decisions are made out of kneaded feelings. And guess what, he knows you make me happy…. and I guess, for parents, that is the most important part.“

He stands up, wincing when his knees pop. He holds out his hand, waits until Hannibal takes it and raises his chin, preparing to get up as well before continuing.

„Also, I’d rip him a new one if he messes this up, and he knows that as well.“

Hannibal steps up to Will, voice soft.

„He called me ‚son‘. I have not been called such for over 40 years. It… is an alien feeling.“

Will grins, hand squeezing tightly.

„Well, get used to it, pumpkin, he is your father-in-law now.“

Hannibal levels him with a stare made of annoyed, tortured and exasperated devotion, making Will laugh again out loud before he tugs him back to the caravan, the shadow promise of a family tickling at the back of his brain, taking root.


	5. Chapter 5

They take the train from Detroit, leaving the caravan on a run down super market parking lot, all their possessions in one backpack and two suitcases anyway, Will insisting on feeding the leftovers to some stray dogs. It’s likely to be dismantled soon, even if the police manages to track them down and even if Ardelia, now probably freed, has broken her promise. Though Will doubts that she will.

They get tickets for a whole sleeping partition on the train this time, quietly entering it just before it leaves, his father showing the tickets to the controller, and locking the door afterwards, looking utterly worn out, probably as much as they all feel Will muses quietly.   
His dad flops down onto one of the beds, groaning, shaking his head.

„Is this what your life is like now? Running from one point to the other? I’ll probably have to rethink my position, then…“

Will snorts, flops down beside him, pulling off his shoes.

„No dad, we’ve settled… though it’s a way off.“

Will swallows, suddenly dead serious, feeling Hannibal watch him, silent and intense from the other bed. He clicks his tongue, pressing on.

„We… haven’t talked about this yet. Do you wanna come with us? Stay with us?“

There is a minute drawl to the question, reminiscent of times long ago, questions like these posed to Will as a child, his father always moving around, following the work, the illusion of choice offered as appeasement.   
Will fidgets and raises his eyes to Hannibals, feeling slightly guilty for not checking with him first but he only finds an amused acceptance in Hannibals gaze, coupled with intense hunger for anything this might offer them. Curiosity killed the cat, indeed. Will turns to his father, raising his eyebrows, silently prompting.  
His father echoes the movement, pursing his lips.

„Well, if you would have me, I think I’d like that. You are definitely not the shy boy anymore that hid himself from the world with 8 dogs and I’d be damned if that alone isn’t reason enough to get to know you again.“

He pauses, fidgeting, licking his lips, once.

„However, don’t make me participate… I don’t want to know in advance. I’ll eat with you, but go easy on me, ok?“

Will grins, placing a hand on his arm, a tingling fluttery sensation in the pit of his stomach.

„We can do that. Don’t worry…“

Steven sighs, continuing.

„And… I need something to do, wherever you are. I’ve worked all my life, I can’t just stop. Especially since the hoped for grand-child babysitting is out of the question.“

Will sighs a torturous sigh, shaking his head in silence. His eyes shoot open though on Hannibals words, very carefully phrased, haltingly intoned.

„I have the wish to give Will a child, again, if he allows. There are, after all, possibilities.“

There is a moment of heavy silence, before Wills exclamation breaks it, tone flat.

„What the fuck, Hannibal. I thought we had discussed this.“

Hannibal raises his chin slightly, pursing his lips, and Will has the fleeting thought that punching him right now would really feel good.

„You said, and I quote: ‚No. Yes. I don’t know. You already did and then you took them away. All three in a way. I’m not sure if I ever want that again.‘“

Hannibal pauses and Will clenches his hands to fists to stop them shaking, his face a mask of fury and hurt and bewilderment, eyes flashing. Hannibal leans forward, puts a hand on his knee, careful, aware of the precariously leashed violence just below the surface.

„I want you to think upon this, Will. I need you to be sure.“

Will closes his eyes, his father reaching up to squeeze his shoulder, once, his voice soft when he interrupts the moment.

„It wasn’t my intention to make this uncomfortable, son. And… I don’t know what possibilities Hannibal speaks off, and I don’t want you to feel pressured. You know how old people are. It was a dumb remark.“

Will swallows, painfully aware of the fact that his father had been utterly honest, the truth masked in quipping. Passing on of genes and all that. Goddammit. He gets up silently and climbs on one of the top bunks, turning towards the wall. He listens to the uncomfortable silence for a moment, before he releases the fury with a sighed breath, falling asleep to the rattling of the train.

_________________

 

They get off in Elliot City and Will feels slightly uneasy now, very much under the FBIs noses as they are, Quantico so very near. There is a weary silence between them, the subject of children one that cuts deep indeed. Will sighs once more when they wait for a cab, deciding to break the fucking white noise up, shaking his head.

„Ok, we’ll all take a deep breath now and get something decent to eat. We’ve only got half an hour to go, and it’s noon, we should not go there during the day anyway. There’s a really nice little vegan restaurant down 4 blocks if I recall correctly. Been here on a lecture once.“

His father snorts, followed by an amused groan.

„Well, they definitely won’t be looking for us there…“

Will huffs a laugh, chancing a look at Hannibal who manages to hide his sneer of disgust at the suggestion. Almost. Well, too fucking bad. Will smirks, putting the backpack up, rolling his neck.

„And… can we walk? I feel stiff…“

He turns, but stops after the first step again and frowns after a moment, in mock hurt.

„What? No terrible pun, this was an A+ chance?“

Hannibal tilts his head and steps close, leaning forward, softly kissing him, his eyes eerily red in the sun. When he draws back he whispers against Wills mouth, deadly serious and not joking one bit.

„Anything… stiff you may wish for is at your service, as always, beloved.“

His father just shakes his head, mumbling to himself. He starts down the street with his suitcase, calling back over his shoulder.

„I want my own motel room. Just saying’.“


	6. Chapter 6

The motel is off the beaten track once more, three rooms, one for his dad, two for them and Will leaves the one in the middle empty, only perfunctory used, bed turned down and ruffled, but otherwise left as was.

He sits down on the bed, watching Hannibal check their backpack, the knives and body armor they retrieved from where Ardelia had thrown them on a pile after rendering them unconscious. He waits for a moment, thoughts churning and yet empty, a weird combination of impulses.

„Once more onto the breach, indeed.“

Hannibal turns to him for a moment, regarding him calmly, intensely. His voice is rough, full of yearning.

„Have you decided?“

Will groans, flopping down onto the bed, shaking his head, suddenly and intensely angry and emotionally raw.

„Why, Hannibal, why now, why here, why after all this time, why goddammit??“

Hannibal settles next to him, on his side, his hand slowly stroking Wills stomach through his shirt. The dread settles down in Wills stomach.

„Tell me, Will…“

Will flashes back to the time they spent on the Nimue, so long ago, when ‚Tell me, Will‘ was Hannibals favorite little game. He snarls quietly, waiting for him to continue. The hand on his stomach changes direction, Hannibals tone contemplative.

„If what we think is true, what do you suppose will happen? What are the consequences?“

Will pulls a face and reluctantly closes his eyes, and calms his breathing.  
The pendulum swings, its shine distorting reality. He lets himself fall into the vision, grounded by the hand burning through his shirt.  
He sees himself, sees the action he will have to take. Sees the regret. Another version then. Death. No. Another. Fire. Another. Tears. Another. He jerks up, panting, freeing himself from it, shaking his head wildly, snarling, antlers pricking at his neck.

Hannibal rises next to him, like a dark angel, the shadows drawing in, like tarnished wings, closing in, turning to black tar, reality sluggish between them. His hand glides up to Wills jaw, gripping tightly, his voice menacing and cruel, his presence dominating the room and Wills soul.

„Yes. If what we think is true, I want recompense. By death… or life.“

His hand squeezes once, tightly, probably leaving bruises before it drops down again, down, down, lightly cupping Will through his pants. There is a glint in his eyes, huge and blackish red as they are, voice soft again, yet still cruel.

„And I want it to be your life.“

Will yells, through clenched teeth, ending in a growl and he shoves at Hannibal, hands coming up into his hair, pulling his head back with all the force he can muster, seeing Hannibals throat work against the strain. He screams again in fury, remodeling the molten anger inside him, and pushes him back, sitting on his stomach with all his weight. He dimly feels Hannibals hands come up and clamp on his arms but ignores him, muscles locked against the strength trying to break free.  
Will bends down slowly over Hannibal, teeth bared, locking their gazes. He lets all he feels pour out of him, knowing Hannibal sees him when he slowly relaxes beneath him. Will growls the words.

„If what we think is true, it will be ours or none.“

Hannibal lips twitch proudly and then he smiles beatifically at him, and Will pulls his head even farther back, bends down and bites into his neck, drawing blood, using it to seal this resolution with a fateful kiss.

____________________

 

It’s probably a good thing their watches chimed, Will muses, interrupting their snarled, biting kisses, announcing the predetermined time to act. Last time he was this angry, some of their furniture had to be replaced and that would probably be not such a good idea, here, attention wise. 

He changes his slightly bloodied clothes quietly, thoughts calmer now, a weird tranquility settling over his consciousness. He watches Hannibal put one of their folding knives in his pocket and follows suit, tracing the edge of it for a moment.  
He breathes out through his nose, slowly, deeply, rolling his shoulders.

„What if we think is not true, Hannibal? What if this is real?“

Hannibal hums, tilting his head in consideration.

„We will need to find out.“

He steps over, brushing some nonexistent dust off the leather jacket Will has just put on.

„One way or another, we will need to play the game, beloved.“

Will reaches up, cupping his face in his hand, mirroring a gesture of so long ago.

„Let’s play then.“

Hannibal reaches back and picks the little pill up, putting it on Wills tongue, and Wills swallows dutifully, Hannibals dark eyes following the movement of his throat.

__________________

 

They leave Wills dad at the motel, with the distinct instruction to not leave for long or answer the door and also a phone number, in case this all goes south. It’s something that Hannibal did on his own, Will needing to blink a few times when he watch him jot the numbers down nonchalantly, the significance not lost on Will at all.

The cab ride to the restaurant is silent, surreal as is the name of the restaurant the address Margot gave Will on the phone takes them to, called ‚Masons‘ of all the names.

Will squeezes Hannibals hand, once, and steps out, alone, watching the cab take off with Hannibal and draws himself up, entering the pretentious little restaurant quietly, ignoring the waiter and going straight into the back, a side room, hidden by velvet drapes. 

He slips into the seat across from her, watching her eyes come up slowly, fidgety and defeated, used to hurt. There are dark circles under her eyes, her makeup careless and flaky, lips chapped, though her clothing is immaculate as ever. She bites those lips, eyes watering up before she reaches for the carafe, pouring them some water.  
There is a huge knot of relief that lifts itself somehow off Wills soul, making him sigh softly. Whatever is going on was not her idea. She looks at him, swallowing, before pushing a shot glass over. Her voice is deceptively light, carefully masked.

„And so you’ve come, like you promised you would.“

Will leans forward slightly, tilting his head.

„Yes, we came…. are we on time?“

She snorts before she takes the shot glass and downs it, softly placing it back onto the table afterwards.

„If you mean did you come before those assholes kill my son, yes, I think you may be on time. I wasn’t so sure, to be honest, but Alana said you would make it.“

Will takes the shot glass and follows suit, the tequila burning down his throat, roughing his voice, thoughts taking up speed.

„Did she… Was he taken from his home?“

Margot shakes her head, eyebrows raised in an expression of mild surprise, pain bleeding through the edges of the mask. 

„No… he never came back from his riding lesson. We later found the horse, shot dead near the entrance from the back road.“

Wills eyebrows draw together.

„The back entrance? What did he do there?“

Margot shrugs, elegantly, before she levels Will with a look, fraught with pain.

„There was a letter, not asking for money but for…“

She stops, sobbing. He reaches over, softly squeezing her hand. She lowers her eyes and then reaches into her purse, open on the table with the other, pulling a small piece of paper out of it, a copy of that letter. She gives it to him, her hands shaking and he draws back, unfolding the paper, cut out letters from a newspaper, the very image of a kidnapping letter. He pulls a face, instincts yelling at him. He swallows, concentrating on reading it.

_„They are here. You will use your information to pull them to you. If you don’t, you will get your son back. Processed, like the swine he comes from. Unprocessed if you follow the instructions.“_

There’s more, but he stops reading as dread settles, and his eyes rise slowly.  
Her eyes are huge, tearful and then there is a prick in his neck, the arrow hitting it’s mark with precision, the drug making the world swoon. He fights against the seductive pull of unconsciousness, sees Margot get up, fearful, trying to run, another arrow hitting her as well. His vision fades, the last image he sees is her falling to her knees. 

His last thought is that it was a really good idea to split up after all.


	7. Chapter 7

Headache. 

It wavers in intensity with every breath and Will tries to contain the nausea, the rocking of the car he is in not exactly helping. In the trunk by the feel of it, the sounds muffled, everything rather chilly and cramped. He tries to breathe through it, taking his time, his feet and hands zipped together and so its rather useless to try to get out now anyway.

There is some old country song playing on the radio in the car and Will tries to hear passed it, not for the first time wishing for Hannibals senses on a hunt.  
There is a clearing of a throat, male, but nothing more, Dolly Parton getting on Wills nerves. 

An hour passes. Will is slowly annoyed at himself for needing to pee, having forgotten to go beforehand, and not so keen to soil himself, but resigning himself to it if they keep going, his hands and feet long having lost feeling, adding insult to injury. He hisses a ‚finally‘ when they turn off the highway, the road slightly gravelly, and then another driveway, relatively short and something tugs at Will.

The front door slams and then stop next to the trunk, and Will can hear the clink of keys, and the cocking of a gun. The trunk pops open and the gun is shoved right into his face, the evening sun glinting off of it.  
He looks up into the grinning face, squinting against the sudden change of light, an amused smile settling on his face when he recognizes the man. There is a sliver of honesty in his words, surprising to himself.

„Hello Matthew. Good to see you.“

The man tilts his head, slightly crazed eyes sparkling.

„Hello again, Mr. Graham. Welcome home.“

Wills eyebrows draw together and he struggles up, into a sitting position, ignoring the gun. His eyes fall onto the desolate front porch, the wind chafed exterior. The barn in the back seems falling apart. Matthew Brown giggles, and taps him on his cheek with the gun, once.

„Welcome to Wolftrap, Mr. Graham. Hope you like your grave.“

_______________

 

Will lets himself be manhandled out of the car, determined to stay on Matthews good side for now. Besides, he really wants to use his bathroom now. His old, he silently amends, the place having a forlorn look to it. Probably lost a lot of its worth when he eloped with a serial killer. Well, too bad. He wonders if Molly was able to sell it, Matthew answering his question cheerfully, oblivious to his thoughts, while carefully cutting his bindings.

„Got this place for a real sweet deal, Mr. Graham. Imagine my surprise when they released me due to ‚availability reasons‘. As if those cells should ever be made available, if you know what I’m saying. Damn dark place, the hospital they put me in after I healed enough.“

He waves towards the door with his gun, smirking with a little bow. Will scowls at him and steps up to it, carefully opening it, a weary feeling settling in his stomach. Matthew pushes him in with his left hand and then flips on the lamp, the sudden light hurting Wills eyes. He raises his arm to his eyes, taking a moment, the pounding in his temples returning for an instant. 

When he lowers his arm he takes his stripped down old living room in, dusty and obviously not used much. A shuffling from the right side alerts him of another person and he starts, stepping over to the bound and gagged form on the bed without a conscious thought, only to be called back by Matthews voice.

„Now, now, Mr. Graham, why don’t you leave Mrs. Bloom-Verger alone? She looks so comfortable there…“

Will clenches his jaw and then turns, raising his hands.

„I’m sorry, Matthew, but I do need to use the bathroom. I’ll just…“

He gestures behind him and Matthew smiles congenially, whispering still smiling.

„Oh yes, of course, Mr. Graham, please do. If you try anything I will shoot her. And you don’t need to look, I emptied the cabinets.“

Will smiles darkly, lets the sneer play on his face.

„What makes you think I would care?“

Matthew clicks his tongue, seemingly annoyed by the question.

„Because you’re here, Mr. Graham. Now, please go, I’ll wait for you, here.“

He sits down next to Alana and puts the gun onto her temple. Will grinds his teeth and goes and relieves himself, inwardly seething.  
When he returns, the scene is almost unchanged, though he can see a silvery line trailing down Alanas face. He saunters over, checking the windows and the cupboards, but nothing sticks out. He draws a deep breath, sitting down on the edge of his old bed, his hand lightly on Alanas right shoulder.

„Where is Margot, Matthew?“

Matthew giggles, shrugging.

„I dropped her off with her son, got no beef with her, Mr. Graham. You see, this really wasn’t my idea, so there’s no point in hurting the little one.“

Something clicks into place in Wills mind and he smiles, darkly.

„Alana paid you to fake a kidnapping so we would come. And then she wanted to kill us. And you… you double crossed her. Because you want to get at me and Hannibal.“

Matthew giggles again, his elation itching in Wills mind.

„Oh you really are good, Mr. Graham. I will prepare your body for your husband.“

Will shakes his head, ignoring him, frowning, something not adding up. He decides just to ask, Alana rigid under his hand.

„That doesn’t explain how you knew when to call us though….“

He levels Matthew with a stare, his smile cruel and genuine.

„Remove her gag, will you, Matthew? I need to ask Alana some questions.“

Matthews eyes crinkle and he licks his lips, tilting his head. He re-adjusts the gun and then pulls the tissue out of Alanas mouth, leaving her sputtering and gasping for breath. Will softly squeezes her shoulder, waiting until she has calmed down a bit.

„Will, you need to …“

Matthew shushes her, pushing the gun right at her cheek. Alana closes her eyes for a moment, opening them again after a moment. Will looks down at her, smiling, his voice soft.

„How did you know we were here, Alana?“

Alana swallows, but she keeps his gaze, unrepentant.

„She called me. Said she got you. That you would be dead soon, if I wanted to help. I… knew you and your damned luck would be able to escape somehow.“

Will shakes his head, confused.

„Clarice?“

Alana licks her lips, looking away for an instant.

„Agent Starling, yes.“

Will gets up, ignoring Matthew and paces over to the empty bookshelf, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

„How did you know Clarice, Alana?“

Alana closes her eyes, voice wavering.

„Did?“

Will clicks his tongue, annoyed. 

„Don’t play dumb, Alana. Of course. And don’t stall. How did you know Clarice?“

Alana sighs, fidgeting in her bindings. Her voice is halting.

„Jack dragged her along, trying to persuade us to divulge our information on you. Margot had them thrown off our property but I made sure I oversaw it and I made her give me her card.“

Wills finger ghost over the keys of the piano, never pressing enough to produce a tone. Well it would be out of tune anyway. He shakes his head again, pulling a face.

„Jack should have known better. Well, he paid for it in the end…“

There is no reaction and Will didn’t expect one anyway. Jack and Alana had never been on the best of terms either. He drops into the old seat that Mason Verger cut his own face off in, in a time that feels like a dream now.  
He staples his fingers, trying to put into words what itches at his mind. Matthew is silent, watching like one of the hawks he so prefers to compare himself with. Will purses his lips, considering.

„You started it by calling Clarice the first time, didn’t you? Of course you did. You… gave her enough information so she could find my dad. Had to dig really deep for that info I bet.“

Alana scoffs, shaking her head on the old pillow.

„No. There was an anonymous letter with your fathers address.“

Will freezes, ice cold fury settling in his stomach. Alana continues, oblivious.

„I kept staring at it, while Margot was out. When Agent Starling gave me her card it seemed so obvious. I waited a few weeks and then relayed the information. I only had to wait some more then. I knew she would manage to rouse you. Taunt you.“

Will smiles grimly, looking at Matthew, who watches with a frown etched into his forehead, clearly unhappy not to be the mastermind that pulls all the strings after all. Will has the fleeting thought that he knows how that feels.

„And then you pulled some strings with old colleagues, got Matthew out, counted on the debt of his freedom for making him do what you wanted. Only Matthew didn’t, did he… he used you for his own agenda.“

Alana hisses at him, her brilliant spunk fully in place after all, eyes flashing, beautiful in her fury.

„I should have known. None of you can be trusted. None of you have… mercy. Dignity.“

She literally deflates on the last word and Will shakes his head, feeling her disappointment keenly. 

„We manufacture mercy. I… gave you mercy, as well as the chance at dignity.“

Alana scoffs, pulling up her nose.

„Mercy… a beautiful concept. Not one -he- is very keen on.“

Will chuckles, letting himself fall into the surreal companionship of the moment, while the fury turns red hot in his stomach, fueled by realization. His voice is warm and soft, the anger and cruelty carefully kept at bay. For now.

„No he’s not. He is an obnoxious, infuriating bastard though and I’m utterly sure he sent you that letter.“

Alana is startled into silence for a moment, before she shakes her head.

„What? No, why would he do that? He must know you would be beyond angry if something happened to your father.“

Will leans back, letting his head fall back onto the headrest. He feels both gazes riveted to him. He sighs deeply before continuing.

„Several reasons, actually. Most prominently, he wanted to up the game, always playing as it is. And then he… just wanted to see how you would behave, he was curious. And lastly…“

Lastly. Wills hands squeeze into fists and he reaches with everything that he is, snarling quietly. The shadows in the kitchen move and Hannibal steps out, his aura preceding him. The room seems to cool down, the black fog permeating the room and Matthew jumps up, shouting an exclamation, pointing the gun at Hannibal. Hannibal levels him with a dark look, nodding once at him, smirking before he turns to Will, ignoring Alana. His voice is deep, admiration and adoration coloring his amused elation, red eyes burning black in the low light.

„And lastly, I wished for Alana to be in our debt. One way or another. And, one way or another, I believe she is.“

Will closes his eyes, his smirk turning cruel. 

Of course.


	8. Chapter 8

It is an eerie and very weird little gathering in his old living room. Alana sits propped up against the window, reminiscent of the position that Will rejected Hannibal in, so many years back now. She is rubbing her hands, trying to return circulation to them after Hannibal urged Matthew to release them. Matthew stands behind her, his gun trained more or less at all of them at that angle, with Will and Hannibal sitting in the two armchairs, looking at each other, silent.

It all makes so much sense now, and it makes Will livid. A thought crosses Wills mind and he gasps quietly, snarling and spitting the words out.

„Oh, I get it now, that’s what you tried to do when you took -her- and made her your little plaything… and that’s why you made her offer herself…“

His fingers twitch and his vision is a dark pulsing red, pulling ever in. Matthew fidgets in the corner, utterly overwhelmed with the situation, all his supposed victims ignoring him, his senses picking up the underlying currents of violence just fine. Will breathes through his nose, teeth clenched, his eyes blue fire, seeking to burn the red he is locked on. Will presses on, hissed words made to cut deep.

„When did you have the idea, beloved, hm? Before or after she came to see you in prison, with her little story about the lamb. I bet you took a look at her hips when she walked.“

Hannibal face remains impassive though his eyes flash. His voice is calm, collected.

„I had thought about it before. The concrete thought took root when we visited your father the first time. The subject came up there and it indeed was not yet resolved, therefore I had to take it into consideration when the dice were rolled.“

Will scoffs and gets up, pacing around the room. Hannibal continues after a moment, his tone deliberately soft.

„Everything we discussed is true, Will, the only lies you may perceive are those of omission. However, I know you are very aware that I am more than capable to follow more than one train of thought. Therefore, please consider that I… set the board and watched the pieces move.“

Will crosses his arms over his chest again, his back turned to the others, looking out towards the dark tree line at the other side of the field. His voice has a mocking undertone.

„And, any pieces left to play now?“

He hears Hannibal get up, hears Matthew fidget in the corner but wisely keeping his mouth shut, hears Hannibal step up to him. Hannibal hand burns on his neck, softly stroking. Hannibal whispers and Will can hear the smile in them.

„Two kings and two queens I believe. And some peasants.“

Alana chimes in, her tone icy, forced bravery pushed into it, with a slightly panicked undertone.

„And I rather hope a little rookie.“

Will snorts despite himself, the wordplay breaching through the furious haze he is in. Hannibal leans forward and ghosts a kiss to his ear and then steps back, turning to her.

„Margot and Morgan are safe. I followed Matthew to the warehouse where he dumped Margot via the tracker that Will ingested, rather crude of you by the way, Matthew, to just leave them there in the cold and dark, and then I freed her and your son from the room they had been placed in. They are…“

He pauses turning slightly to Will and Will moans with the obvious conclusion, his hands coming up to cover his face. He speaks through them, his words muffled.

„Oh god, you brought them to my dad, didn’t you…“

Hannibal opens his mouth and then closes it again, the movement visible in the window glass. When he speaks again Will can detect a miniature note of defensiveness.

„I believe they were all very happily watching football when I left them. Margot especially seemed quite alright with my handcuffing her to the bed as long as she was able to reach the whiskey your father had bought.“

There is a minute snort from Alana at that and another one from Will. A whiskey would be good now, indeed. It’s the levity that does it though, apparently, Matthew probably more than enough fed up with their antics. His voice is cheerful and yet acidic.

„Well, how nice, Dr. Lecter. I should have just killed you back then. Maybe I would be married to him now then.“

Will and Hannibal turn towards him at that, in unison, both their eyebrows rising. Hannibal smirks, beating Will to it.

„Yes, Matthew, you should have. And I doubt it, to be completely honest, as you are not nearly proficient enough to lock horns with the beast in Will.“

Wills heart beats once, hard, in his chest before returning to normal beats. He realizes that normal people would have felt the need to rebuke the very thought of a beast housing in him, needing the proclaimed proficiency of a cannibalistic serial killer as an equal. And yet. His neck prickles and he lets the anger fall away for now, to be carefully cultivated again, at a later point, safe from the outside world. He can almost taste the coppery flavor already and he groans quietly, knowing Hannibal can smell the change on him.

He turns to Hannibal, smiling darkly and then reaches for him, his hands on Hannibals lapels, pulling him in and he couldn’t care less for poor Matthews yelling because Hannibals lips are pressing into his, his tongue going deep, making them both groan.

He draws back after a moment and grins and then as if decided with one mind, they both throw themselves into different corners of the room, only to turn back and run at Matthew at full speed and Will has the flickering impression of panic wide eyes and the nuzzle of a gun before the window frame bursts and Hannibals hands press Matthews head onto the splintered glass, severing most of his throat in one clean cut.

The spray of blood is cleansing and Will revels in it, committing the moment to his own memory palace, smiling serenely, his eyes holding Matthews until they break. Hannibal kisses him again then, gliding warm kisses, full of devotion. When they part, Will is panting, grinning but pushing the words out nonetheless. 

„Don’t think you’re off the hook. I will fucking own your hide for this when we’re back home.“

Hannibal chuckles and then traces a finger along his jaw before turning to Alana, calmly regarding her for a moment. He then steps up to her, taking the folding knife out of his pocket and frees her completely, tapping her ankle, once. His tone is cheerful, dark amusement at a plan coming together beautifully. Will has to remind himself that fighting with him now would be counterproductive.

„Come now, Alana, up you go. Let’s go find your wife and child, shall we?“

Alana closes her eyes for an instant, tears falling to her cheeks. 

„And then, Hannibal, what good can I do for you after that? You poisoned me, remember? What else can I give you to settle your proclaimed debt? Sure you want somebody radioactive around?“

Hannibal is silent, smirking and Will gasps again, the final piece of the puzzle clicking into place. His voice is flat, soft, almost inaudible.

„But you’re not, you know. You only thought you were. As did I…“

He turns to Hannibal, throwing the words back at him, sneering.

„What a cunning boy you are, indeed, exchanging the liquids.“

Hannibal regards him for a moment, voice carefully controlled when he answers.

„A compliment I could return, beloved. Would it not have been for that rather ingenious idea of yours, this course of action would never have been available.“

There is a strangled sound behind them and it reminds them of the woman their words adhere to and they turn towards her, Will feeling slightly guilty suddenly for discussing this over her head.

She is shaking her head, her tears falling freely and she tries to talk, voice failing her the first few times. Will sits down next to her with a sigh, reaching for her hand and she allows it, squeezing tightly. She looks up to him, her eyes searching his eyes, wondering aloud after a moment, fearful elation shivering through her tone.

„I can’t believe… And you’re just going to accept that? That he played you like this? Played us?“

Will reaches up with his other hand, slowly cupping her face, ghosting a kiss to her temple, his voice very soft, a deep sigh preceding his words.

„It’s who he is, Alana. We both know that. He is an obnoxious, unrepentant, oblivious to normal considerations, infuriating bastard. And I will make him pay for it. Later. Because… that’s who I am. Now.“

He drops his hand from her face and looks at his old house for a long moment, committing it ever more to memory. He then looks back at Hannibal and tilts his head towards Matthews body. His voice brooks no argument.

„Get the keys and then take Alana out, will you? I’ll get the house set up and then I’ll burn it.“

Hannibal nods, once, his eyes asking silently if Will is sure.  
Will nods in confirmation, smiling and then goes into the kitchen to turn the gas oven on, opening the valve. He looks out over the fields and the only peaceful times back then flash before his inner eye, his pack running with him, their wild barking making him grin, even remembered. There is no -need- for a pack anymore. -Want- is more than sufficient though.

He hears the front door close and lights the fire with some old matches, walking out, around and from the quickly raging fire, stepping towards the waiting car silently. When he drops into the front seat he levels Hannibal with an amused yet flinty look, ignoring Alana in the back.

„We will get more dogs.“

It is not a question.


	9. Chapter 9

The car ride is silent and Wills stomach rumbles loudly long before they return to Elliot City. Will takes Matthews phone that they found in the glove compartment, and orders some pizzas to the motel, ignoring Hannibals put on suffering. 

They leave the car near a scrap yard, walking until they can catch a cab, Alana trailing behind them silently, still fighting with what this night revealed to her.

The sight that greets them when they enter the motel room is surreal, Morgan jumping on the bed next to a rather drunk Margot, yelling at the game on the little TV, Wills dad munching on pizza, cheering Morgan on. Alana sobs behind him and Will steps out of the way, watching her run over and embrace her son and then Margot, and then her son again, squeezing tightly.

He opens himself to all the emotions in the room, imagining and the deep hurt in him unfurls, fueled by breathless hope, never before truly allowed. Hannibal steps up to him and nuzzles into the hair behind his temple, his voice a deep rumbling.

„I know.“

Will closes his eyes and prays, to the only god that will answer him, the deity conjured by their union, the antlers binding them in eternity.

Alana voice pulls him back, tear- and fearful.

„What now?“

Will opens his eyes and smiles, a smile that transforms his whole face, all the little laugh lines showing. 

„Now, you need a vacation. How about Port Elizabeth?“

Margot voice is slurred.

„Why would we go there again for a few weeks? Been there, done that, as you may recall. Though the wine was very good.“

Will smiles again, turning his gaze to his father, still munching on pizza. Wills stomach growls again and he steps forward and pulls an armchair up, taking a piece and biting a big part off. His voice is rather muffled.

„Not a few weeks. You need a sabbatical, Margot.“

Silence, Alanas brows furrowing, Margots eyes flickering back and forth between them. Will takes pity on them.

„Your wife… owes us, Margot. There is a means to collect and we intend to. Probably. Maybe.“

Margot honest to god groans, deeply, before shaking her head, toasting slightly towards Alana.

„Oh honey, whatever have you done now.“

Alana voice is icy.

„Well, technically, I was set up.“

Hannibal chimes in, amused.

„In a way yes. However, Alana, I have given you your life, I expect payment in kind.“

Margot looks around the room, confused.  
Will holds up a hand, silently rebuking more questions. He takes one more big slice of pizza and then gets up, taking a deep breath.

„Let her tell you the whole story. I’m going to bed. Hannibal, you take the first watch. Dad, you should get some sleep, also. There’s a lot of babysitting coming your way.“

Hannibal smirks at him and then settles in a chair next to the door, no further threat needed. Will smiles softly and leaves the room, 5 pairs of eyes following him, and he looks up at the stars for a moment, the moon paling every color. 

_______________________

 

He is not surprised when he wakes at noon, slightly peeved, yes, but not surprised. Once you get the hang of it, Hannibal can really be rather predictable. He rolls over, stretching, back and neck popping. There is a knock on the door and he stumbles out of bed, opening it in his underwear. His dad pushes in, carrying two big cups of coffee. He shrugs, looking at Will.

„He sent me over to that coffee shop like 15 minutes back. Said you would wake soon because the angle of the light from the doors over light would hit you.“

Will looks at the bed, shaking his head at the ray of sun hitting the pillow there. Predictable and rather good at predicting.

„Coffee’s good.“

His dad settles on the edge of the bed, watching Will getting dressed in his old clothes, a stern presence, getting on Wills nerves.

„What, dad.“

Steven Graham sighs, fidgeting.

„What was that about, that little comment of yours? I heard some of the story Alana whispered to Margot, who, by the way, almost ripped her wife a new one, I tell ya. Anyway, why do you need me to be prepared for more babysitting?“

Will pulls the shirt over his head and runs his hands through his hair, sighing deeply before he flops down next to his dad, taking the offered cup and promptly burns his tongue. He starts several times only to stop for a moment again, before he finally settles on the words.

„Remember the discussions that you seem to trigger, dad? The ones you keep apologizing for? What if… what if there was a possibility after all? Now? What if… what if we could… have that.“

Will is suddenly breathless, his mind flashing back to something Hannibal said to him, in regards to the dragon back then, but still, it had fit so well. ‚You know better than to breed‘. He swallows, turning to his dad, face a mask of pain.

„If you knew then what you know now, would you still have wanted a child, dad? If you had known I would have visions, and suffer for it. If you had known about my… impulses. If you had known… what I would do. Who I would choose….“

His father shakes his head and shushes him, hand coming up to squeeze Wills hand tightly. It takes a few tries on his part as well, and Will smiles painfully through the tears that threaten to fall. His fathers voice is rough when he speaks, each word punctuated by little tugs on Wills hand.

„Would I have wanted to ease your suffering? Yes, as every parent does. Would I have liked to know you better as you grew up? Yes, but then you know our situation was far from easy and I, I was much younger then and overwhelmed with the situation as well. But Will, I… I never regretted having you. And there is something universal in having something of yourself reincarnated into another life. That you love unconditionally. So, son, if you have the chance, and by god I don’t want the frigging details, but, if you have the chance and the longing… and I can see the longing in your eyes right now… go for it.“

He pauses and Wills vision blurs, the salty wetness trailing down his cheeks without his will. His father pulls him into his arms, softly rocking him.

„But Will, it will be different. It won’t be just the two of you, doing whatever you did the last few years. You’re probably going to have to rely on pork after all. And don’t think I’d ever leave you again, finally getting a family again. So, you would probably need to soundproof your bedroom.“

Will snorts and then starts laughing, his tears falling freely, a vicious elation stealing into his soul and he tries to hold it back, knowing it’s seductive and dangerous pull, and yet, yet he cannot. 

Well. 

All or nothing once more, then.


	10. Chapter 10

When he returns to the room the Bloom-Verger family spent the night in under Hannibals supervision he is calm again, though he knows Hannibal can see right through him. His father stays in Wills room, having offered to pack their stuff.  
He watches as Morgan reenacts some of the moves of the cartoon figures he is watching, Alana and Margot cuddling on the bed with Margot obviously having a rather strong headache.  
Will takes a cold piece of pizza and eats it slowly, waiting for them to address him. Unsurprisingly to him, it’s Margot who decides to get the Elephant out of the room, voice low as to not alert Morgan.

„So. My wife informed me, that you didn’t poison her after all to keep her healthy and that you apparently wish to use her for whatever -he- planned with Clarice Starling.“

Will raises his eyebrows, pulling a face, the little summary pretty much covering it. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head, letting it drop down between his shoulders, weighing his words carefully.

„More or less. Alana endangered my father and she owes Hannibal for her life, apparently, so that’s the debt he intends to collect.“

He can feel Hannibal fidget in his armchair, listening very closely. Margot raises a pretty eyebrow, eyes flicking from one to the other, catching on.

„But you don’t wish to collect?“

Will sighs, stomping on the impulse to bite his nails. He draws himself up and straightens his back, forcing himself to look her straight into the eye, not daring to look at Hannibal.

„I do, God help me, but I do. However, it’s not exactly fair, is it? He set you up in a way, set us all up.“

Alana chimes in, her tone trembling, brutal honesty forcing their resolution.

„I… would have done something anyway, Will. You know that, and he knows that. That’s why he is so goddamn cheerful. He knows I’ll only get out of here if I acquiesce… One way or the other he will get what he wants.“

She raises her eyes to him, the blue burning and clear, the resolution obvious in them, making her ethereal. The smile that twitches on her lips is grim and yet honest, Margot squeezing her hand, Alana squeezing back once before continuing.

„A sabbatical sounds nice, actually. Morgan can be homeschooled for a year and I, I will be glad to have my life back afterwards, no need to look over my shoulder all the time, be scared of every water I drink, check every shadow that looms in my peripheral vision.“

Will looks at her for a long moment and then nods slowly, his heart beating in his throat. Hannibal decides to enter their conversation at this moment, voice a seductive purr.

„Ah, your baby will be so beautiful, Alana. Just imagine, your and Wills features combined, a brilliant combination of beauty and mind and instincts, terrifying in it’s supremacy.“

Alana throws him a dark look full of hatred, but wisely keeps her mouth shut, Margot taking it upon her to break the tension once more after a moment, tone artificially bored.

„I am sorry, but I have to insist on artificial insemination.“

Hannibal tone is genial, amused.

„Why of course, Margot, I can assure you I would not wish for it to be otherwise.“

Will takes a deep breath, closing his eyes before his words freeze the atmosphere once more.

„And you will carry twins, Alana. One of mine, one of his.“

There is a minute pause, before Alanas exclaimed ‚what‘ coincides with Margots ‚what the fuck‘ and the sharp inhale behind Will. He waits until the cacophony of voices from the bed, yelling at him, dies down, before he opens his eyes again, his eyes stormy, brooking no argument, not turning to Hannibal.

„It is -my- condition.“

Alana jaw clenches, and she has to visibly reign in her impulse to yell at him again. Margot looks at Will for a long moment, before she kisses Alana on her temple, sighing softly. 

„Well, look at it from the bright side, honey. At least they’ll be so exhausted with twins they definitely won’t be having any more time to pester us even in the slightest.“

Alana snorts darkly and looks at Morgan for a moment, shaking her head.  
Margot pets her hand for a moment before continuing, teasingly now.

„Of course I can hardly imagine you with such an enormous belly… and all the visits to doctors… whatever will I do there all the time.“

Will clears his throat, the situation drifting into the surreal. And Hannibal still hasn’t moved behind him. He fidgets, wishing to have him alone, to hash whatever is eating him out. He grins forcibly for a moment, taking the cue from Margot.

„Well, there are two thoroughbreds that need the workout and of course there will be Morgans homeschooling. And swimming with sharks. And penguins.“

Margot hums, lips pursed, nodding to herself before tackling the practical problems.

„And, how will we get there? We can’t just leave and not come back, you know. There is a business to run, people to consult.“

Will draws a deep breath, tilting his head back, but not receiving any prompt from Hannibal. He lightly shrugs his shoulders before he continues.

„Hannibal will call someone who will prescribe fertility medication to Alana. You will return home, go see a counselor for a few times, make a big show out of your marriage problems and then you will decide you need a sabbatical. You will rent an apartment near Port Elizabeth for the first few weeks. We will see how we’ll proceed after that.“

Margot frowns at him, thrown.

„That’s… it? You… let us go?“

Will shrugs again, spreading his hands, palms up, chuckling drily.

„What would you have me do? Take Morgan with us? Threaten you? You already know the consequences of running. We found you once, we will find you again and then…“

He leaves the ultimate consequence unvoiced, obvious between them.  
Margot is quiet for a long time before she smirks, her blue green eyes flashing, tone teasing.

„Will Graham. I did indeed know why I picked you for my unborn child… Guess there’s worse things than see my wife carry yours after all.“

She rolls her eyes, more at herself, addressing the silent shadow in the back of the room.

„And his, but then there’s always a catch I guess.“

Alana snorts at that and then starts to snicker, the laughter breaking the tension and Will laughs with them, nerves fluttering.  
Hannibal gets up behind him, stepping out and Will sobers up instantly. He smiles tightly at Margot and Alana, a crooked smile and watches Morgan worship the TV for an instant more before following Hannibal out.

______________________

 

It’s not as if he didn’t anticipate the hand on his throat, or the one in his hair but for all their training Wills reactions are still no match for Hannibals. 

Hannibals red eyes are burning into Wills, pressing him into the wall, right there next to the door to the motel room, in the mid morning, for all the world to see. Wills hands come up to Hannibals waist, slowly, and he relaxes in the manhandling, not daring to break the gaze. Hannibals voice is rough and tortured beyond measure, the beast snarling at the fore, forsaking propriety. It’s thrilling and dangerous and oh so beautiful.

„How dare you…“

Will doesn’t answer but lets his one hand travel slowly up, pushing it between their chests, over Hannibals heart. He is growing light headed from the lack of oxygen, still not fighting against it, his body knowing the futility of such a fight by now. His words carry over the breeze just slightly, floating between them.

„I dare to want as you want… I dare to wish for what you wish… I dare to need what you need… I dare you to give me what you promised me when we signed that little form and I dare you to tempt fate with me once more…“

Hannibal releases him with a forceful push, Wills head hitting the brick wall, pain erupting. He ignores it, taking a deep breath, drawing himself up, his voice calm and unyielding steel.

„I dare you to go against my wishes in this. I dare you to ever think of us as a game. I dare you to bury Misha and the past you connect with a child of your own… I dare you…“

Will pauses and steps forward until they are chest to chest once more, Hannibals chest heaving, his eyes huge and black, fists clenched at his side.  
Will breathes a kiss on his lips, continuing, cutting deep.

„I dare you to believe in something light and beautiful coming from our dark union. I dare you to believe that I am deserving of this. I dare you to believe… that you are.“

There is a sound, tortured and raw and then Hannibals head drops, all the way down to Wills shoulder, his weight coming down as well and Will has to adjust his footing, his arms coming up and holding fast, head down, eyes closed, the sun warm on his skin.  
He opens his eyes when he hears the door to his motel room open, his father stepping out, carrying their suitcases. He pauses in the door, taking them in and Will turns his head, still on Hannibals shoulder and smiles at him, a true smile, full of love and terrified elation. His father looks at him for a long moment and then smirks softly, before continuing to the car. The trunk is opened and then closed forcefully again and his fathers voice carries over the parking lot, tearing them both apart emotionally, perfect in its innocent resolution, his words branding their souls.

„Ok, sons, lets go home.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and there you have it^^
> 
> PLEASE feed me with Kudos and Comments, I thrive on them :).
> 
> I will continue this series, though I will write a few installments of Hannibals POV in between ([Stormy blue, tinged with sunlight and tar](http://archiveofourown.org/series/530185)).
> 
> AND (though I thought I knew what this installment is about as well, so who knows^^), I will have our kings and queens do "something"^^ together....  
> Eventually^^


End file.
